


Cowboy Like Me

by aknightbecomesqueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18, 15x20, Alcohol, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Dean Winchester has a martyr complex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Jack is the best son, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Sam is a Good Brother, Season/Series 15, Sharing a Bed, Some light violence, Supernatural Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknightbecomesqueen/pseuds/aknightbecomesqueen
Summary: "Dean took each blow, each punch like a gift, divine retribution for all his mistakes, all his regrets. This was repentance, this was justice, this was his punishment and payment. His apology to Cas."Cas gets taken by The Empty and in typical Winchester fashion, Dean blames himself.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 123





	Cowboy Like Me

Dean pushed his sore and bruised body up from the concrete floor where Cas had thrown him. The answer to Cas’s admission hanging in the air like a miasma, lingering, and with each breath came the dawning realization that Cas was gone. Horror rising as bile in Dean’s throat; threatening to spill out as the despair punched through him. Dean could only look back and forth across the room, searching for something – someone – who wasn’t there, couldn’t be there. He didn’t even jump when his phone began to ring, halfheartedly he glanced at the caller ID, it was Sammy. Dean’s chin began to quiver and things that felt terrifyingly like tears itched his eyes, how could he tell Sam? And god forbid Jack… Gingerly, Dean placed his phone unanswered on the floor, slowly bringing his hands to cover his face; he began to sob into his palms. 

“Me too, Cas,” he repeated to his hands.

That night he sat in one of the twin leather seats in the bunker, a nearly over-full whiskey in his hand as he stares miserably at the empty chair next to him. In that seat sat a ghost of his happiness, he could see Cas there, matching glass in his hand and a lingering smile – chuckling at a stupid joke Dean had said. He felt himself smile at the memory of that late night and all too suddenly a vice grip squeezed his heart. He didn’t deserve these happy memories of Cas, these memories were proof of Dean's guilt, proof that Dean himself had condemned Cas to the Empty. When Dean had first felt the claws of something like affection begin to scrape at his skin, he had shoved all of it down deep. But Cas was always incredibly good at gripping him tight and raising him from perdition. The more he fought against them the more his feelings ensnared him like vines in a deep jungle. The more he denied it, the more he noticed the electricity that shot through him when his angel smiled at him or tilted his head in confusion at another out of date reference Dean was so fond of. His love was a curse, Dean knew this with a certainty that he felt for little else. Cassie, Lisa, and now Cas everyone he had given his heart to was marked by tragedy, marked for immense pain. Distantly, he heard footsteps walk from a bedroom to the bathroom and Dean was pulled from his head back into the bunker.

Sam and Jack had had questions, too many questions, he had barely heard anything they had said. Instead, their words morphing into a cacophony of noise that threatened to deafen him as he choked on his explanation. His mind screaming Cas loved me back and now he’s gone, and my love was the murder weapon. Finally, when he could muster the words all he could say was a curt,  
“Cas is gone, he’s…he’s dead.”  
Jack and Sam had been horrified, of course, managing to get Dean to explain that Cas had made a deal with The Empty, did Cas tell him what the terms were? No, there was no time Dean replied, lying through his teeth once again while swallowing the mixture of self-hatred and soul-crushing loneliness. 

He dragged a rough hand across his face as a rogue tear slid its way down, he shook his head aggressively, like a kid with an Etch A Sketch. He should have known, his drunk brain reminded him, he was a Winchester after all, and Winchester lives never got the happy ending treatment. Life was painful and hard and then you die, his father had taught him that. Good old John Winchester, the patron saint regrets, and it seemed as if Dean was on track to follow the path of his dear old dad. Dean stood suddenly, stalking across the room to jerk open the decanter of whiskey, he slammed down his glass on the table as the long since dulled burn of the liquor coated his throat. A sharp pain bloomed from his palm before quickly numbing, Dean looked down with blurry vision as bright red seeped from the center of his hand. He had shattered the glass, and he couldn’t bring himself to care, this pain, physical and hot, was at least familiar and manageable. 

“Dean?!”

Dean looked up to see Jack’s concerned face stare at him from the doorway, Jack’s eyes jumped from Deans tear-stained face to his injured hand. He had no idea how long he had been standing there, although it must have been a while as the blood from his palm had made its way to his wrist and was beginning to pool between his feet. Before Dean could do anything, Jack was yelling for Sam, who appeared next to him in the doorway seemingly out of nowhere to Dean's drunk mind. Sam quickly noticed the blood and pulled Dean into the large bathroom, forcing him to sit on the toilet while he cleaned and inspected the wound while Jack stood nervously at the threshold of the door.   
Dean started off into the distance as Sam worked on his hand, distantly he thought he could hear someone calling his name but couldn’t seem to hear them over his own screeching inner monologue. No one can be happy around you, the happiness you provide is temporary, Dean Winchester is unlovable. 

“It’s my fault,” Dean whispered over Sam’s attempt to get Dean’s attention 

Sam, interrupted, looked up from his hand, “What Dean?”

Dean's eyes widened in horror, “It’s my fault” he said a bit louder this time. Sam and Jack deserved to know what a selfish monster he was. “IT’S MY FAULT” he yelled as the tears he had fought for so long broke through like water through a destroyed dam. Jack and Sam both jumped at his raised voice, Dean stared at his shoes as his shoulders shook with his sobs. Sam, one hand still holding Dean’s - stitches only half-finished, placed the other hand on Dean’s shoulder,

“Dean what are you talking about?” asked Sam gently.

Dean couldn’t look at Sam or Jack, soon they would hate him and leave like Cas, a cruel whisper of a thought taunted him. He took several breaths attempting to form words, “Cas, he – he’s dead because of me.”

He slowly looked up from the floor, Sam kneeled in front of him with a first aid kit next to his feet and Jack standing right behind him, both sharing twin expressions of confusion at his words. What was there to be confused about? It wasn’t even the first time Cas had died because of him or even the second for that matter. Dean let his gaze fall again as he began to explain,

“Billie found us, she was going to kill me and Cas. I was so sure there was nothing we could do. But then Cas told me he knew something that could beat her.” Dean paused, steeling himself for the next part, “he told me that he made a deal with the empty when he got out before. The Empty said it would let him go but when Cas was at his happiest it would come and take him back.”

Unseen by Dean, Sam looked at Jack both shocked by this information. Jack stepped forward a bit.

“You said The Empty took him, if Billie was coming for you how could he have possibly been that happy?” He asked, squinting slightly in concentration as he tried to piece together the events. Dean looked at Sam, he could practically hear the gears turning in his brother's head. The inklings of a guess beginning to form behind his eyes. Dean could see something there, a deep suspicion slowly rising to the surface. He knew Sam wouldn’t say it out loud, he would let Dean say this on his own time.

“He told me he loved me.” Said Dean forcing himself to ignore the break of his voice when he said the word love. A fresh round of tears moved silently down his face, collecting on his chin, his breath shaky as he tried to reel in his composure. He heard Sam’s quiet but sharp inhale and the hand on his shoulder squeezed as a comforting gesture, “And that’s when The Empty came? That’s when it took him back?” asked Sam. Dean opened his mouth the reply but all that came out was a laugh that sounded too much like a sob to his ears,

“No, that’s not when it happened.” Dean sniffed and blinked up at the ceiling, quickly using his uninjured hand to wipe under his eyes. “No, The Empty came after I said, ‘me too’.” A small sad smile flashed briefly across his face before morphing into a quivering frown. It had taken him so long at that moment to process Castiel’s words, he had stood there dumbstruck, his mind telling him there was no way this could be happening while his heart danced in his chest to a hopeful rhythm. So quietly he looked into his angels' eyes and said, “me too.”   
A heartbreaking smile spread over Cas’s face as the black ooze of The Empty began to appear behind Dean, who turned with wet eyes to see it. When he turned back, he had asked Cas why this sounded like a good-bye, and that’s when the best moment of Dean's life became the worst, and once again Cas was taken from him. Because of him. He was pulled from his memory when Sam began to speak,

“I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t understand. How did you kill Cas?”

Dean looked at his brother in confusion, “what do you mean you don’t get it? The Empty came when I told him I loved him too! If I just kept my mouth shut maybe Cas wouldn’t be trapped.”  
Sam scoffed, “I don’t want to make light of this but Dean, none of that was your fault.”  
He opened his mouth to argue but Sam put a hand up telling him to wait.  
“I know that it’s hard for you not to blame yourself, you’ve been doing it our entire lives. Whether or not you had responded at all, The Empty would have taken Cas.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Dean asked in a broken voice. 

Sam shook his head at his older brother, “Because Dean, Cas telling you was enough to make him happy.” He explained, “Why else would he have told you about the deal first? Cas telling you his real feelings made him the happiest he could have been. I don’t know how long he felt that way but saving you, loving you enough to sacrifice himself, that was the trigger, not you.”   
Dean couldn’t say anything, he could only stare at the incomplete stitches marring his right palm. Sam sighed,  
“I know you won’t believe me but please, stop blaming yourself. I know you’re hurt, and I know how much Cas meant to you, to all of us, but what we need to do now is beat the fucker who caused all of this.” 

Sam looked between Dean and Jack,  
“Now we have to kill God.”

Dean imagined it would hurt, getting the shit beat out of you by God himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel it. All his pain was masked by a scorching fury that set his skin aflame, it was this motherfucker who forced their hands; this son of a bitch that abandoned them as everyone else had. This cruel God took the one person who promised to always stay. Dean took each blow, each punch like a gift, divine retribution for all his mistakes, all his regrets. This was repentance, this was justice, this was his punishment and payment. His apology to Cas. 

Soon both he and Sam began to laugh, their plan was working. Chuck like the angry incel he was screeched at them “Why do you keep getting up?!”, springing the trap into place. Jack moved forward as they explained to Chuck his critical error, looking so much like his father, his true father. He radiated power and quiet fury causing a small clench in Dean’s chest. A small wish that Cas could see their son come into his own, and become the hero of their story. Chuck was curled in on himself on the ground, powerless and defeated. A little part of Dean’s soul sighed, there was some peace in knowing that Cas had been avenged and sitting right next to that a barely lit flicker of hope, a soft-spoken maybe, nearly inaudible but there. 

Sam, Dean, and Jack stood in the deserted main street of a random town. All of them still holding their breath, waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop.   
“So, uh, are you…?” Dean asked Jack, hesitant.   
Jack smiled small but pure to himself, “Yeah I think so.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, equal parts concerned and relieved. 

“Does that mean you can bring all the people back? Do you have to go to heaven?

Jack took a deep breath and looked around, taking in his environment with a new perspective, and nodded, “I can, I’ll bring everyone back.” He said with a smile “As for heaven, I’ll have to go for a little while. Have to clean up the mess my grandfather made. But permanently? I don’t know, I think Godlike figures have messed the world up enough. Maybe we should let the humans run the show this time around.” 

He looked between Sam and Dean,

“If it’s all the same to you I would much rather stay with my family after that.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and chanced a glance at Sammy who was quietly fighting his own happy tears. Screw it, Dean thought as he strode forward, throwing his arms around Jack. For a moment Jack stood there in shock, but quickly squeezed Dean back, “Of course, Jack, you’re a Winchester.” Dean spoke quietly “You’re my son, you’re welcome wherever we are.” Jack laughed through happy tears as Sam joined their group hug.  
“I don’t know who I thought I was kidding” Dean chuckled.  
“What do you mean?” Asked Jack.  
“I love chick flick moments.”

Soon after the tears had been wiped away and sappiness expressed, Jack had snapped and brought back all the missing humans. The streets were alive once more and life seemed to pick up immediately where it had left off. Jack explained that he was going to heaven to rebuild but that he would be back the second it was finished, Sam and Dean loaded themselves into the impala and began the drive back to the bunker. Sam passed out in the passenger seat about 15 minutes into the drive, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts. Dean had thought about asking Jack if he could bring Cas back from The Empty, but if The Empty could hold death could it hold Jack too? He wouldn’t risk the one part of Cas he still had; he wouldn’t risk their son. He was exhausted in every possible way and the temptation to stop and get a motel itched at him, but he knew he needed his own bed. He needed comfort and surety, a place he felt safe. He turned the radio up only slightly, not waking Sam, and pressed his foot on the gas pedal, speeding towards home.

They pulled up to the bunker and Dean shook Sam awake. They both began grabbing their belongings from the impala and the food Dean had stopped and picked up on the way. It was night now and Dean could feel the long drive in his bones, they had been so much easier when he was younger, he thought as he rolled his shoulders to drive away some of the stiffness. They entered the bunker, Sam yawning loudly,  
“Hey man I think I’m gonna go eat in my room and call it a night”   
Dean nodded and stretched slightly,  
“Yeah that sounds- “. But he was interrupted by a third voice.

“Sam? Dean?” called a familiar and gruff voice.

Every object that was in Dean’s arms was immediately dropped to the floor, his eyes wide, heart rate skyrocketing with each moment. He whipped his head towards Sam, whose expression was a mirror to Deans. They both sprinted down the stairs to find Cas, standing at the map table. Sam was the first to act, running up he threw his arms around Cas who hugged back without hesitation. Sam pulled back, both hands still on Cas’ shoulders,

“Cas, I – how are you here?”

Castiel smiled at Sam, “I guess my son is God now, he came to The Empty and pulled me out.”   
Sam smiled but still looked confused, “He just…pulled you out?”  
Cas nodded, “It turns out Chuck was just much more of a coward than we thought. The Empty was terrified when Jack turned up.”

Sam chuckled in disbelief as he turned to Dean. Sam’s smile dropped as he took in his brothers' expression. Dean stood stock still, face paler than Sam has ever seen it. If he didn’t know better, he would think Dean was going into shock, “Dean?” Sam said quietly, at his name Dean jumped like he had been pinched. Meeting Sam’s eyes, he looked far younger and more unsure of himself than he had in years. Sam felt a familiar protectiveness sweep over him, he turned to look at Cas who was watching Dean with heartbreakingly hopeful and slightly terrified eyes. Sam cleared his throat and threw on a diplomatic smile, “Cas, I’m so glad you’re back. We’ll talk more tomorrow and fill you in on everything, I’m exhausted so I’m gonna head to bed.”

Cas nodded silently, not taking his eyes off of Dean as Sam spoke. Sam released a slow breath through his nose and took one last look between the two of them. He quickly made his way to his bedroom and prayed to Jack that those two idiots would finally talk to each other. 

Back in the other room, a charged silence sat between Cas and Dean, neither one knowing how to start this conversation, every time Dean thought to open his mouth to speak it felt like his heart rose and blocked his airway making speech impossible. Cas watched him nervously, inching forward every few breaths he took,

“Dean I – I don’t even know how to begin.” 

As Cas spoke Dean felt that warm familiarity surround him before it could turn sour. He knew where this was going, how could Cas still love him when it was that love that had killed him? Cas would tell Dean he couldn’t love him anymore and Dean would just have to live with it. While he had been thinking Cas had moved and was now an arm’s length away. Slowly as if Dean were a frightened animal, Cas reached for his forearm. Dean flinched away from Cas’s reach. 

Cas seemed to shrink with the movement, a quick flicker of hurt flashed across his face. Dean closed his eyes and forced himself to speak before Cas could condemn him.   
“Cas, before you say anything, you have every right to hate me, and I don’t blame you. Hell, I hate me too.” Dean said miserably.

A deafening silence floated between them, the ex-righteous man and his fallen angel. Dean waited with held breath for the disgust and rejection that was coming, for the anger, the rage, the hate he deserved. And yet, only silence remained. After an immeasurable amount of time, Dean felt a hand rest on his jaw. It took everything he had not to sigh, as he felt that familiar fluttering sensation in his chest that had become synonymous with Cas so long ago.

“Dean, please look at me?” 

He clenched his eyes shut, even more, the warmth of Cas’s hand spreading through his skin. He wanted, selfishly, for this moment to last just a bit longer. He would burn this feeling into his brain, allowing himself one moment before his fall.   
“Please, Dean.”

Slowly, Dean opened his eyes, looking first at the floor and both of their feet, rising eventually over Cas’s body, taking in the trench coat Dean loves so much and his blue tie that seemed to match Cas’s eyes perfectly. Finally, landing on Cas’s face, what he does not expect is the pain and pity in his eyes, and that pity was the last thing he wanted from Cas.   
“How could I ever possibly hate you, Dean? I have never loved anyone, or anything more than I love you, Dean Winchester.” Cas said with a small smile and a tear peaking from his eye.  
Dean looked at him in confusion, beginning to respond but Castiel spoke first,  
“After all this time have you forgotten what I told you? Good things do happen, Dean. You will always be my good thing.”

When Cas kisses him, it’s not at all what he imagined. He had imagined Cas’ kiss would feel like a lightning bolt, he would feel the power and divine nature of his angel, electrifying him in place and turning his bones to ash; letting Cas take what he wanted from him happily. But it wasn’t like that. Not at all. It was so much more than he could have ever imagined. Instead, his kiss seeped through Dean like warmed honey, spreading slowly through his limbs, like a feeling of home and comfort washing over him. Cas’s tongue ran over his bottom lip and with a sob, Dean opened up for him. Cas clutched Dean’s flannel as Dean raised his hands to frame Cas’s face. As they separated, they couldn’t help but smile and laugh quietly at each other as they wiped away the others' tears, refusing for even one second to stop touching. 

“Cas,” Dean said “I meant it. What I said to you.”  
Cas looked at him, he was glowing, looking even more like the angel he was.   
“I love you; I think I have since purgatory,” Dean said, happy tears still falling down his face.   
Cas’ smile grew and he kissed Dean once more, short but no less intense than before,  
“I love you, Dean, ever since I found your soul in Hell, I had never seen anything so beautiful, so undeniably good in nature.”  
Dean placed his hand on the back of Castiel’s head and pulled him in for another kiss. There were little words from that point on, both men basking in the joy of having their soulmate in their arms again. Eventually, they made their way to Dean’s bedroom and laid down together, face to face they stared. Dean could hardly believe it, Cas was back, their son was going to come back, his brother was alive, and they had won. Winchester’s never got a happy ending, Dean thought to himself as he brought his angel in for another kiss, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, y'all we made it. This is the first fic I've ever written haha, I haven't been able to read Destiel since the finale so hopefully, this cures me. This is unbetaed so please be gentle!


End file.
